


Sweet Home, Riverdale

by writeme



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asshole Fiancé, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Divorce, Drunken Shenanigans, Engagement, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Las Vegas Wedding, Mutual Pining, the one that got away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29623068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeme/pseuds/writeme
Summary: Barchie AU: Betty left Riverdale nine years ago and if it were up to her, she'd probably stay gone forever. Since leaving she's found the life she'd always imagined for herself. Graduated from Yale, top of her class at the FBI Academy, and a successful fiance. There's just one little problem she has to take care of first. One she hasn't thought of in eight years. **Loosely based on the plot of Sweet Home Alabama.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Sweet Home, Riverdale

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, you have to call a spade a spade. Yes, this is an AU based roughly on the storyline of the movie "Sweet Home Alabama." Look, I have no other explanation for you other than that sometimes the ship you've been waiting forever to happen finally get together. In a shower. And the next thing you know, it's 2 AM and you're 18 pages deep on a story you never knew you wanted to write.
> 
> Enjoy! Please comment and review!

Betty Cooper has come a long way since leaving Riverdale in her rearview mirror, headed for New Haven and her fresh start at Yale. She’d always intended on coming back for the major holidays, and she does the first Christmas and Thanksgiving. But then she gets an internship and one excuse turns into another and the next thing she knows, it’s been eight years since she’s been back to her hometown. 

If she’s being honest, she probably wouldn’t even be coming back now if it weren’t for a small matter she needs to take care of before she can get on with the rest of her life. Which involves marrying a wonderfully successful, intelligent, and driven man named Glen. 

She hates telling people how they actually met, so she usually just says through work. That’s technically true, after all. When people find out the small detail that he's her boss, she knows they’re inwardly judging her, even when they plaster fake smiles outwardly. She gets it, on some level. It does seem sort of predatory or even a little creepy with the whole balance of power thing, but it’s not like that with Glen. At least, that’s what she’s told herself so many times now she’s started to firmly believe it.

She wasn’t exactly expecting Glen to propose when he did, but it did make sense after it happened. He’d chartered them a helicopter tour of DC, complete with a very expensive bottle of wine and concluding with a sunset stroll through her favorite place in the city, the Cherry Blossom grove in full bloom. It was romantic, that was for sure. Everyone around them started clapping and cheering as soon as he got down one knee and of course she would probably have said yes anyway, but it sort of made her feel like she had no other option. 

The ring is expensive, that’s for sure. It’s a three carat diamond, which is huge. It’s gaudy and bulky and not very her. She wears it on a necklace usually anyway, tucked under her shirt thanks to her line of work. It’s not exactly safe for her to be galavanting around with a huge rock affixed to her finger when she’s working a case. While she can’t dare complain about an engagement ring that probably costs more than most people’s mortgage payments for a year, she sort of wishes he’d consulted her about her taste before picking it out himself.

But, that’s Glen’s way. He’s older than her by twelve years and he likes to remind her of that rather frequently, under the guise of being helpful. After all, having the wisdom of life experience she hasn’t had the opportunity for yet, she’s lucky he shares it with her, really. Or, so he says at least. It’s definitely annoying, and mainsplain-y, but he has a lot of other redeeming qualities; like being really good at his job and highly respected in the bureau. Her connection to Glen has undoubtedly given her a leg up in her line of work and she won’t let anyone make her feel ashamed of doing what she had to do to get to the top. Sure, she’d rather be able to feel like it were her own skills, talents, and abilities that put her where she is today. But that’s just unfortunately not the reality for women trying to make it in her line of work.

They’ve been engaged for five months before he brings it up, but when he does, she can tell he’s known for quite some time. He is, afterall, an FBI agent; it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that he’d have the information at his disposal. “Lizzy, babe. Quick question.” He says across the table one night during dinner. He’s cutting his ribeye into annoyingly small bites and pauses his surgically precise work to look over at her. “How’s wedding planning going? Raquel said you haven’t gotten back to her about a date yet so she can start browsing available venues. You know I am paying her a lot of money to plan our wedding and she hasn’t done any actual planning yet, on account of-”

She doesn’t let him finish, biting her lip in that way she knows can get him to stop talking whenever she wants him to. First of all, she hates when he fucking calls her Lizzy. She’d made the mistake of disclosing that to him and instead of making him immediately stop using the nickname, it had only made him increase it to an obnoxious use level. “Sorry babe,” She flicks her doe-eyes over to him and gives him an innocent look. “My boss has been riding me really hard at work, so I just haven’t had a lot of time to talk with Raquel.” She smiles at her implication. “But I do have some plans in the works, I just need to check with my mom on a couple dates. I was thinking maybe April, they say that’s the best time to visit Bora Bora afterall. I can wear that yellow bikini you like...” She brings her wine glass to her lips, licking them gently. It’s a distraction technique that usually works on him when she wants to avoid a conversation. He does smirk appreciatively over at her, as if enjoying the visual she’s provided for him. Then, he lifts his own wine glass to his lips and it seems as though her strategy is working.

Well, until he starts talking again. “April works. And the yellow bikini is a must,” he starts innocently enough. But then, he drops a bomb on her. “Do you have a plan for how you’ll handle the whole already being married to someone else thing, before you and I tie the knot?” He gives her an icy stare as he speaks and then, upon finishing his question, drops his eyes dismissively back to his plate to begin cutting again.

She chokes on the sip of red wine she’d been taking when he started to talk and she feels her face flush with equal parts embarrassment and astonishment. “Glen, I…” She swallows hard, setting her glass down. “I was nineteen-years-old and practically still a child. It was a crazy, drunk, Vegas mistake with a childhood friend. We got in annulled right after it happened. Like before we even left the city…”

“Afraid not, Lizzy. According to legal records, you’re definitely still married to…” He opens a manilla folder she hadn’t noticed sitting next to him on the table. It wasn’t uncommon for them to work on cases while they ate, but she should have suspected something since it was the lone one occupying the space next to his porcelain plate, not a mass of them like she’d normally have found. Not that she would have expected this sort of inquisition anyway, honestly. “...Archibald Andrews?” He finishes, bringing her attention back as he articulates a name she suddenly wishes she’d never heard fall from his lips.

“That’s not possible.” She says, her mouth drying as she lets her fork clank noisily against her own plate, as she rises from her seat at the opposite side of the table to approach where he has an open dossier of her life. She slides the mass of papers out and there is her marriage certificate, with both of their signatures, but the annulment paperwork is nowhere to be found in the pile of documents, even after she looks through the entire stack five times. 

“Definitely possible. And so very ‘small town girl who was never supposed to leave’ of you.” He chastises again, much to her horror. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you or anything. It’s actually kind of amusing.” He snickers, seemingly at her expense. “My little southern simpleton, country-bumpkin.” He goes to kiss her, but she turns her head instead so he gets her cheek.

“Riverdale is in upstate New York.” She corrects, somewhat annoyed at him, to say the least. “Listen, that happened a lifetime ago. It’s just some sort of misunderstanding. I’ll call Archie and take care of this first thing tomorrow.” She remarks, looking down at her watch. It’s only 8:45, but that seems a little late for a phone call to a guy she hasn’t spoken to in almost a decade, especially when she’ll need to bring up such an uncomfortable topic as their teenage transgression she assumes they’d both prefer to leave in the past. He’s probably just as unaware as she is about the status of their relationship and she doesn’t need to be dropping that bomb on him right now, not like this at least. 

“I had my lawyer draft up divorce papers for you. Consider it a pre-wedding present. Or, post-nuptial, in the case of you and this Archibald.” He laughs again, smugly, but smirks at her before rising from the table to retrieve an envelope with what she can only assume are the documents he’s just referenced. It’s all but confirmed when he pulls them out and extends them in front of her. “You sign them now and I’ll have them couriered to his address, as soon as you give it to me.”

“That seems like a wildly impersonal way to handle this.” She scoffs, taking the stack of papers he shoves at her, bound by a black binder clip. “I think I should talk to him, maybe even go back to Riverdale myself and give them to him in person. This is all a big misunderstanding anyway. Archie is,” She corrects herself. “...was one of my oldest friends. He’ll be happy to get this sorted out and I won’t seem like some frosty bitch who is too good to deal with things face to face. Besides, I’ve been wanting to go back anyway... finally tell my mom and Polly about us, about our engagement, in person.”

“Polly, that’s the crazy red-headed cousin with the smokin hot, biracial wife; right?”

She gapes at him for a second. They’ve been together for almost three years now, how is it he still can’t keep track of her family members? Especially when there are so few of them. Sure, he hasn’t actually met them yet, but she has one fucking sister for chist’s sake. “Polly’s my older sister.” She tries to keep her tone even as she corrects him.

“Oh, right. The older sister who slept with your other cousin who died, but only after impregnating her with the weird flower name twins.” He actually laughs and she manages to form the world’s most forced smile in return, despite the fact she literally wants to slap him across the face. “Lizzy, are you sure you aren’t from West Virginia or...Arkansas?” She glares at him, she can’t help it, but that only makes him smile more. “You’re hot when you’re pissed at me, you know that?” He says bringing his hands up to fiddle with the buttons on her blouse.

“Glen…” She stills his hand and swats it away from her before he can undo more than two. “I’m hardly in the mood right now. You dropped a pretty big bomb on me and-”

“I find out my fiance is married to some insolent townie and she’s the one turning me down for sex? I don’t think so,” He’s overly smug and she couldn’t be less turned on. Especially when he leans in and kisses her roughly. “No, you see, you owe me this Lizzy. You’re lucky I’m not pissed at you right now.” He tugs her shirt roughly from the waistband of the skirt it’d previously been tucked so neatly into and she hates herself a little for letting herself believe that she owes him anything, ever. But she hates herself even more when she lets him fuck her after that. 

Surprisingly, Glen is less of a douchebag the next morning; so the far from satisfying sex from the night before isn’t a total waste for her after all. Being that he’s her boss, he says it’s no issue for her to take the next few days off of work. In fact, he even books her a flight out of DC for the next morning and hires a car to drive her to the airport so she doesn't have to take the Metro. She knows that’s the only form of apology she’ll be getting for the way he behaved last night, so she takes it for what is worth.

She explains how, since it’s been so long that she’s been back to Riverdale, she’ll need to stay at least a handful days to please her mom. So her return flight is booked for four days later, which should be a sufficient enough amount of time for her to visit with her mother, Polly, and her niece and nephew, maybe catch up with Cheryl and Toni, hopefully Kevin, and most importantly (and dreadingly); meet up with Archie.

Glen books her a first class ticket, so she drinks a few complimentary vodka sodas on the flight home to quell her nerves. She hasn’t been back to Riverdale in years for a reason. All it holds for her now are a lot of bad memories. Of her father; the Black Hood. Of her failed relationships with Jug and Veronica. Of all the trauma she endured throughout highschool; usually at the hands of those closest to her. Her relationship with Alice is better now than it used to be. The lack of proximity to the woman is a large factor in that, it’s safe to assume. 

Just imagining spending three days filled with what is sure to be constant criticism of her physical appearance and life choices, coupled with mass amounts of guilt tripping for why she hasn’t visited in such a long time is enough to make her change her next drink order to a vodka on the rocks, hold the soda. She makes that one a double.

The flight is quick from DC to New York, but then she has to take a train from the City to a hub outside of Riverdale, and from there a bus. The whole process takes about six hours and it’s Polly and the twins who are waiting for her at the bus stop, which is a nice way to ease herself back into this reentry. The children are rambunctious, but sweet. She’s video-chatted with them several times and sends notoriously awesome birthday and Christmas presents, so they’re excited to see her despite not knowing her very well. They talk her ear off and ask a million questions they never give her the chance to answer on the ride home, which is actually a nice way to counteract any awkwardness between her and her older sister and keep them from having to engage in forced small talk.  
They make it to Alice’s quickly enough and she’s waiting for them on the front porch, arms crossed and facial expression as discerning and critical as ever as she saunters down the stairs to meet them. “Elizabeth,” She nods curtly at first, surveying her daughter’s appearance now that she’s stepped fully out of the car. “You look, well-fed.” She remarks in what can only be perceived as a back-handed compliment at best and a straight up insult at worst. 

Still, Betty forces out a smile at her mother and remarks back with a sweet tone, yet cutting words of her own. “Mother,” She starts, “Grandmotherhood looks great on you, I can hardly even notice all those new wrinkles around your mouth and eyes!” Then, she draws her mother in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, before jogging up the front steps to head into the house. The brief exchange is enough to reaffirm that she made the right decision staying away for so long. 

Her bedroom is exactly how she left it all those years ago. Right down to the candid photos collaged on her wall. She sets her suitcase down and closes the door behind her. Alice has long since removed the lock on the door, so she props her suitcase against it for good measure before descending further into her childhood respite.

She examines the pictures, several of her and Archie at different ages; all smiling and sweet. There are some with Veronica and Kevin too. There’s even one of her and Jug in a frame, the last remnant of a relationship long since over. There are Playbills from all the musicals she did, which definitely bring back some nostalgic memories on their own. She’s actually surprised at how fondly she looks back on those recollections. They’re memories she’d purposefully squashed down for so long now. She’s such a different person now, then the girl who lived in this room; who lived this life. 

But, in some ways, she’s still the same and that’s undeniable. Accordingly, she moves to sit on her bed and she can’t help but stare out her window, half-expecting to see the red-headed boy next door peering back at her as she so often had in years gone by.

But the curtains and blinds are drawn and she sees nothing other than that from his window. Not even a soft glow of light or other telling measure that might indicate he’s even home can be seen. Any further thoughts she may have on the matter are interrupted by a brief knock on the door and subsequent opening, which sends her matte pink, hard-shelled suitcase toppling forward with a loud clatter. “Elizabeth, it’s your mother.” Alice announces, as if Betty can’t see her with her own eyes now that she’s barged in. “You really shouldn’t leave your suitcase there. It’s bound to fall over anytime I come in to talk to you.”

There’s a biting remark begging to leave Betty’s lips but she keeps it inside in favor of warring further with her mother, which will inevitably only serve to stress her out more than she already is. “Great suggestion,” She says instead, moving her suitcase over by the window she’d just been gazing out of, setting it on it’s side. “Can I help you with something, mother?” 

“Yes, you need to be ready to leave in about twenty minutes, I figured you’d want to change out of your travel clothes before we take off.” Alice gives Betty’s outfit a once over as if she’s wearing literal trash bags as clothes right now. 

Her travel clothes consist of a three hundred dollar sweater Glen gifted her last Christmas and a pair of Free People jeans she spent way too much money on, so she finds her mother’s criticism a bit hilarious actually. “This sweater is cashmere, it’s like one of the nicest things I own.” She remarks, laughing gently and rolling her eyes.

“And it’s a very nice sweater, Elizabeth. It’s just, a bit...rumpled and frumpy. You know, I’m only trying to help, you don’t have to turn every conversation into an argument. You always assume I have the worst intentions!”

Betty just sort of stares at her for a second as if asking the woman to refute which part of that she finds to be untrue, but she again takes the high road. Better to change the subject than fall for that trap this earlier in the visit. She hasn’t even been here an hour, after all.. “Anyway mother, what do you mean by ‘take off,’ are we going somewhere?” She asks next, suddenly processing the other part of her mother’s spiel. 

“For the barbeque tonight? At the Fire House? Oh Elizabeth, I mentioned it to you this morning when we spoke on the phone!”

“We didn’t speak on the phone this morning, mother.” She corrects, crossing her arms in front of herself defensively. 

“Oh, hmm. Well, either way, I meant to tell you.” She shrugs noncommittally. “Regardless, we’re leaving in twenty minutes and the whole town is going to be there, so maybe you want to put on some makeup too.”

“I’m wearing makeup.” She replies, annoyed. 

“Right,” Her mom offers a fake smile. “I just meant you may want to touch it up, being that you were traveling all day and most of it seems to have come off.” Then, she clasps her hands together as if she hasn’t just once again been exceedingly rude to her daughter. “Right, well. I’ll see you downstairs in, fifteen minutes then. Hopefully that’s enough time for you to,” She makes some vague motions with her hands towards Betty and then, she exits the room.

Even though she thinks she looks fine in what she has on, she changes to oblige her mother. It’s not worth the battle that would ensue otherwise, really. She loses the baggier, cream colored sweater she’d been wearing and slides into a soft pink, more form fitting turtleneck tee instead. Her mother has always loved this color on her, so it’s sure to garner her at least some reprieve from, if not favor with, the woman. She loses her sneakers for a pair of flats and runs a brush through her hair at her vanity. She finds a necklace there she hasn’t thought about in forever, but she puts it on and decides she likes the small flare it adds to her otherwise rather boring outfit. She does touch her makeup up a little bit, adding a darker lip and some more mascara before she considers herself Alice approved. She unhooks the chain which holds her engagement ring from around her neck. She’ll bring it out later, when she decides to tell her mom and Polly. Until then, she’ll keep it safe in her suitcase; it’s expensive afterall, why risk anything happening to it if she finds herself running around with the twins or something? Yeah, that’s exactly why she decides not to wear it. The only reason.

She heads downstairs and the twins are both sitting on their tablets, consumed by whatever YouTube videos are blaring through their headphones right now; they hardly notice her. Alice gives her an agreeable nod as if to say her appearance is satisfactory and uses it as leverage against Polly who is still blow-drying her hair upstairs, to get her to hurry up.

Finally, they all pile into Alice’s mini-van and head down to the fire station. As they drive in, the lights of all the town’s fire trucks, and a few police cars, illuminate the way. Thanks to Polly, as Alice states several times, they have to park rather far away from the event’s entrance since they’re running late. The twins hold each of Betty’s hands and the trio walk ahead of Alice and Polly admiring the lights and sirens that create a makeshift show on the approach. It gives off a very quaint, small town feeling; something Glen would definitely make fun of her for enjoying if he were here. 

She sees Kevin as soon as they walk in and she leaves the twins with Polly and her mom as she rushes over to greet him. “Well look who is a sight for sore eyes!” He remarks, wrapping her in a hug. 

“I’ve missed you, Kevin.” She replies, hugging him back tightly, a hint of regret in her voice before she declares, “It’s so great to see you!”

“I didn’t realize you’d be in town for this!” He squeezes her shoulder gently. “It’s so nice to see you here. How long are you staying?”

“I didn't realize it either. In fact, my mom told me we were coming here less than an hour ago. I had some stuff to take care of quickly in town and then, it’s back to DC Monday morning.”

“Ugh, that short?” Kevin frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “Well listen, I unfortunately have to get back to my theater kids, they’re singing a medley as a part of the big presentation and they are likely to spiral without my calming presence. But, maybe we can grab breakfast tomorrow or a drink in the evening! Just text me, I’d love to catch up! It’s really been way too long, Betty.”

“That sounds great Kevin, we’ll definitely figure something out.” She leans up to kiss his cheek gingerly and then he walks away, leaving her there standing on her own. She turns to where she left the other members of her family, but they’ve left, probably to go snag a table so she sets off to find them.

That is, until she sees him. He is as handsome as ever, which is to be expected, she guesses. The time since she last saw him has been very kind to him. His jaw is more chiseled, his hair shorter and more kempt. He’s wearing a long sleeve, gray t-shirt with the Riverdale Fire Department logo embossed over his heart and its name scrawled down the left sleeve. Her jaw goes slightly slack. Of course Archie Andrews became a firefighter. As if he wasn’t already a walking romance novel trope as it were.

He must feel her staring because he looks away from the person he’s talking to, another firefighter if his matching shirt is any indication. His eyes flick to hers and there’s a moment of recognition and confusion as their eyes meet from across the way; maybe even a little excitement she pretends not to notice. He excuses himself from the conversation and is striding towards her before she can decide what the hell she should even say to him. Her heart is hammering against her chest and she’s almost concerned he can hear it. Suddenly, he’s standing right there in front of her and she knows she should speak, so she goes with, “Hey, Arch.”

“Betty Cooper?” His tone is almost disbelieving despite the fact she’s clearly standing in front of him. “I, wow, I can’t believe you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. It really means a lot!” He leans forward and hugs her and she’s more confused by his reaction to her now than he seemed to be when he noticed her here in the first place.

She isn’t exactly sure what he means but she goes along with it for the sake of keeping things pleasant. “I wouldn’t miss it.” She remarks back ambiguously, finding herself enjoying the scent of his cologne a little more than she should. She isn’t even sure what she’s saying or why, but he seems to appreciate it. 

He gives her a warm smile when he lets go of her. “Listen, I have to go get ready, but we should catch up later Betts. I, uh, well, just... thanks for coming.” She can’t help but notice the blush that floods his cheeks as he reaches up to scratch his neck and then turns to leave.

She’s still confused when she finally finds Polly, her mom, and the twins at a five seater round table. “Oh, Elizabeth, there you are. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, so I got a salad in case you were on a diet or anything.” She smiles stiffly and bites into her own cheeseburger almost ironically.

“Thanks mom, you know it is really so thoughtful of you to keep mentioning that you think I’ve gained weight.” She replies with a sticky sweet tone, but her annoyance is clearly evident.

“Well there you go, putting words in my mouth again. I never said anything of the sort Elizabeth. I was merely trying to support you in any endeavors you may be partaking in and here I am being persecuted like a woman in 1600’s Salem, Massachusetts!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s not a stretch at all.” She rolls her eyes, her mother has always had a flare for the dramatic. “Listen here, Sarah Good,” She bites back sarcastically, “...no one is persecuting you or putting words in your mouth. You know exactly what you mean to imply when you make those little remarks.” She sighs, annoyed more at herself for taking her mother’s bait. She is not going to fight with her here, she refuses. “I’m going to get a drink.” She states, rising from the table as a means of ending this conversation before it can further spiral out of control. “Polly, you want anything?”

“Yes! Beer, any type.” She says appreciatively, her eyes lighting up. Betty disappears without waiting to hear a request from Alice.

She gets her mother a glass of wine anyway, as a white flag, hoping they can call a truce for the remainder of dinner. She offers a curt, “Thank you, Elizabeth,” that seems to indicate Betty’s plan has worked, at least for now.

“So what is this barbeque for exactly?” Betty asks, taking a swig from the bottle of Blue Moon she’s gotten for herself.

“It benefits the Fred Andrews Memorial Scholarship Foundation that Archie recently started. It’s to help local kids with money for trade and tech schools, fire colleges, or the police academy.” 

She instantly feels bad for pretending she’d come to this on purpose. In fact, she feels downright shitty. She’s come back to Riverdale to ask Archie to sign divorce papers and she’s pretended to be here to support him on one of the most important nights of his life. Talk about sending mixed messages. It’s clearly not a great time to bring up the real reason she’s here, so she’ll welcome any excuse to put it off a little longer. She’s dreading talking about this with him, with anyone really.

In fact, that dread is precisely why she hasn’t actually told Alice why she’s here. To be fair, that’s also because Alice doesn’t exactly know she married Ariche in the first place and this hardly seems like the place for that conversation either. Or the one she also needs to have with her mother about how she’s currently engaged to her boss. Yeah, suddenly, everything she’s come home to discuss, feel suffocatingly awful to disclose. 

Before she can become further lost in her stream of guilt and anxiety, she hears a tap against a microphone and her focus is pulled to the stage. Kevin is there and he starts talking about the students behind him who are there to sing a medley of some of Fred’s favorite songs. He stands to the side like a proud stage-dad, doing some of the choreography along with them and beaming with pride as they finish and the impressively large crowd erupts in applause for them. They really do knock it out of the park. She catches a glimpse of Archie in the corner of her eye, and the way he dabs some tears from his eyes with his thumbs prove to be the ultimate compliment of their talents.

Archie takes the stage next and immediately, her full attention is drawn to him. He seems nervous, even though she’s pretty sure he could charm his way out of, or through, any situation. The crowd loves him, that’s evident before he even speaks with all the hoots and hollers and claps they elicit for him. He raises his hand to quiet them, but his eyes are full of appreciation nonetheless. “Thank you all, so much for coming here tonight. My dad would be so proud, moved, and grateful that his beloved town came together not only to honor his memory, but to help out the people in our community who are looking to pursue blue collar careers much like the one he had for over twenty years…” He goes into detail about the history of Andrews Construction and Fred’s drive and entrepreneurial spirit before concluding with, “Thanks to the generosity of our community, we have already raised over $25,000 for the scholarship fund. We are collecting more money tonight as well. A portion of the proceeds from the bar will be donated, so please help yourself to as many drinks as you want. We will be offering free rides home for anyone who needs one!” That elicits some laughs and hollers from the crowd before he continues, “Otherwise, if you have any spare cash or change on you, every little bit helps. Just find a fireman carrying a boot and give what you can.” He brandishes the black one of his own in his hand and then motions to the five other men and three women who are apparently his fellow firefighters. “Thank you again for coming, everyone. Please, enjoy the food, graciously prepared by the staff of everyone’s favorite restaurant, Pop’s!” Applause erupts again. “I know my dad is smiling down on us all tonight. Thank you.” With that, he exits the makeshift stage to an even more uproarious applause.

Her heart swells with pride for her oldest friend. She feels even more like a fraud than she did before when she lied to him about being here on purpose. The thought eats at her enough that she feels compelled to confess the truth to him. 

Glen is the type who likes to remind everyone he has a lot of money. His apologies often come in the form of it. He’s always leaving her cash or giving her way more than she needs when she goes to pick up take out. Not to mention, since she moved in with him and doesn’t have to pay rent; she’s got a healthy amount in her savings account to work with. She gathers everything she has in her wallet and purse, which probably amounts to about $350 and folds it neatly a few times, hoping to sneak it into his boot without much fuss. 

It takes a couple more sips of her beer before she has the confidence to approach him. Polly has taken the twins over to the fire engine they’re letting kids sit and explore in and Alice has gone with them to play paparazzi, so she and Polly have more staged photos to plaster on social media and pretend they have a happy, functional home life. The thought annoys her, but she dismisses it in favor of making things right with Archie. 

He has a crowd of people in front of him, demanding his attention, which isn’t a surprise. It takes a little while, but finally, the throng of supporters thins out and she’s able to approach him. “Your speech was great, Arch.” She compliments, wrapping her arms around herself nervously.

“Thanks, Betts. I appreciate you saying that.” He gives her a signature smile, full of genuine warmth and she feels even more guilty for lying to him about why she’s here. His use of her more affectionate nickname doesn’t help.

“Archie, I have to tell you something-”

“It’s okay, Betty.” He interrupts. “I’m just glad you’re here. It doesn’t matter if you came on purpose or by some fluke. My dad, well, he always loved you. He’d be happy you’re here too.”

That somehow makes her feel worse and her eyes gloss over a little with emotion. Probably because it’s not just that she lied or that he mentioned the man who was more of a father to her than her own psychopathic one had ever been. But, it’s also because of the reason she’s really here and the pain it’s going to bring up for the both of them to rehash. “I wanted to donate a little something to your incredibly worthy cause!” She goes to drop the money into the boot, but it’s already overflowing with bills as it is, so she presses it into his open palm instead. 

“That’s too much, Betts.” He says, feeling the weight of the cash in his hand. He can tell it’s more than just spare change, which is all he was expecting her to give. “Look, you don’t have to try and make up for anything-”

“I love your dad, Archie. Please, let me do this, for him. For both of you.” She interrupts.

He seems willing to accept that answer because he smiles graciously at her and tucks it safely into the boot. “Well, that’s really generous of you. You know, it’s still great seeing you again, even after all this time and everything that....” He trails off and stares at her a little longer than may be considered appropriate and she finds herself blushing under his gaze, her long lashes fluttering with her nerves. She can tell he’s compelled to say more and it seems like he might bring up that fated moment in Vegas and she isn’t ready for that segue yet.

“It’s great to see you too. Listen, I have to get back to my mom before she has a conniption. But, maybe you and I can chat later? I’ll be in my room, so just flag me down through the window. Or, text me, or whatever.” She shrugs trying to be casual, but she’s not sure why she suddenly feels so nervous around Archie. Maybe it has to do with the fact that since the last time she’d seen him she’d married him, gotten it annulled, and then; she’d basically ghosted him.

“Yeah, that would be really great. I gotta stick around here awhile and clean everything up, but I’ll definitely reach out after. Maybe you can come over to my place, have a drink. We can catch up; it’s long overdue.” 

His voice seems wistful, full of hope she doesn’t feel she deserves to have placed in her. “Yeah, that would be really nice, Arch.” She nods, despite how she actually feels.

When she gets back to the table, Alice is getting the twins ready to leave but her sister is nowhere to be found. “Where’s Polly?” Betty asks, causing Alice to look up from where she’s zipping up Juniper’s coat. 

“She’s pulling around the car. We’re taking the twins for ice cream, I hope you’re up for it! We can take some great family photos and I can finally prove that I really do have two daughters. You know, on account of the fact you never come home, I think people around here are starting to think I made you up.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “Mom, most of these people have known me since I was a kid…” She sighs to herself, shaking her head. Before she can even think about what she’s saying next, the words leave her lips. “Actually, I already offered to stay and help Archie clean up. They have a big job here and I thought they could use the extra help. It’s the least I can do, for Fred, you know?” She motions around the area, where people are starting to clear out the trash and decor remnants. 

“Oh, that’s nice of you Elizabeth. Besides, I’m sure some heavy lifting will only pay off for you long term!” She remarks, ruining any chance of giving her daughter an actual compliment yet again. “Well, let me know if you need a ride home later, okay?”

Betty nods and hugs the twins and her mother goodbye, heading back towards where she left Archie as they head towards the curb where Polly’s just pulled up the van. He’s picking some trash up off a table and she joins him. “Want some help?” She asks, picking up a plate and dropping it into the can he’s wheeled over with him without waiting for a response.

“Sure, if you don’t mind. We’d all appreciate any extra hands we can get to finish this up faster.” He smiles at her warmly again and she sort of despises how it seems to affect her.

They continue cleaning off the table in silence and then move onto the next one before he finally says something and she’s relieved to have the tension broken if nothing else. “So, last time we saw each other things got a bit crazy.”

Okay, so that didn’t really help to make things feel less awkward, but at least it isn't silent anymore. “Yeah, they definitely did.” She laments, swallowing hard.

“It’s kind of weird that you and I have never really spoken about it.” He notes, bending over to pick up a red plastic cup that's fallen on the floor, spilling its similarly colored contents in a small pool around it. He picks up some napkins to mop it up and she waits until he’s standing again to reply.

“To be fair we haven’t really spoken of anything since then, so it’s sort of par for the course for us.” She defends weakly, and the attempt at lightheartedness seems well received enough if the weak smile he offers is any indication.

He waits a moment before he responds. His voice sounds sadder than he means for it to, “That was your decision.” It comes out quietly, and he looks over to find his own hurt mirrored in her eyes. “Well, it was over as quick as it started anyway, so I guess there’s not much to talk about, I suppose.” He sighs and can’t stop himself from adding, “Well, except for…” but he trails off and shakes his head at himself as if annoyed that he’s even started to go there.

She shouldn’t go there either, she knows that. She should let it go, but she can’t. “Except for?” She stammers out, feeling like there's shards of glass in her throat as she forces the words through.

“Nothing,” He shakes his head again dismissively, turning to start cleaning a different table and leaving her to finish the one they’d been doing together on her own.

She could push him further, she knows he’d give in to her eventually. At least, that’s how it usually worked between them. But she feels too cowardly to bring up why she’s really here, so she doesn’t feel like she has the right to make him bring anything up he isn’t ready to either.

“You’re my ex-wife.” He lets out what can only be described as a sarcastic laugh and it’s a realization they’re both having for the first time.

“Don’t call me that.” She says quickly, fixing him with a stern look. “Someone could hear you!” She hisses, but even she can recognize that isn’t the only reason she finds such distaste for the title.

He looks more hurt than she’s expecting and it knocks her down a peg. “Now that would be truly terrible, Betty.” His affronted gaze turns into a glare of sorts and she feels awful for making him feel this way.

She doesn't know what to say at first so she just looks at him helplessly and then finally manages to get out, “My mom would kill me if she heard from someone else, Arch.” 

His features soften slightly, but not all the way. He does give her a nod of understanding though and they resume cleaning off their separate tables in what can only be described as palpable discomfort. 

“It wouldn’t be accurate anyway.” She says finally, her voice slightly hoarse. She regrets saying it as soon as she has and she wishes she could take the words away before he has a chance to hear them.

“What do you mean?” He asks without turning around to actually look at her. 

“I mean…” She bites her lip before borrowing his earlier non-answer. “Nothing.”

They get through six more tables in silence before he can’t help himself anymore. “What did you mean, Betts?” He asks again, stepping into her line of vision this time.

His eyes have always had some kind of effect on her. They implore her now in a way she can’t avoid even when she averts her gaze from his. “Can we talk about this somewhere else, Arch?” She asks, brandishing a plate with a half eaten hot dog and the remininents of potato salad as evidence of the inappropriateness of their current venue.

He nods someberly, in averse agreement. The other firefighters have finished the various tasks they’ve been working on and they approach the pair of them, encouraging Archie to head home and swearing that he’s done enough tonight and that they’ve got it from here. He’s reluctant to leave, but his curiosity to finish this conversation with Betty wins out in the end “I’ll give you a ride home,” He nods to her. “Let me just grab my stuff and I’ll meet you by the truck, you’ll know the one.” He adds, before heading back towards the fire house doors.

She starts walking towards the truck, which he’s right, she does recognize right away. It’s Fred’s truck. The one they’d all worked on together a couple summers before he’d passed. This truck seems like an even worse place for the conversation so she leans against it, deciding maybe she should just talk to him out here. But then, they’d have an awkward ride back home.

She resigns herself to making small talk the duration of their ride so he doesn’t have a chance to make her talk about it. She talks way too long about the food from tonight, and even longer about the 7k she did last week, where she got her best time ever. She’s willing to talk about anything she can think of to avoid the elephant in the room; er--car.. When he pulls into his driveway, she gives him an awkward smile.

“Okay, so we’re home now, can we talk about what you meant earlier now?” He asks, his voice softer than it’s been all night.

She gnaws at her lip, knowing that she’s put this off long enough. “Can we go inside?” She requests and he nods, shutting off the car wordlessly. She gets out too and follows behind him. It doesn’t feel right in this house, the one that holds some of her best childhood memories, either. She starts to realize, or maybe admit to herself that it isn’t about where she tells him, it’s about what she has to say. That’s what she’s really been avoiding.

“Okay, Betty, just...come on already. You’ve sidestepped this conversation long enough, can we please just fucking talk about this?” He’s exasperated, a tone he doesn’t use with her often. 

It takes her aback, to hear him like this, directed at her. “I’m sorry Arch.” She bites her lip and looks down at her feet. She is sorry, for a lot of things, honestly. So many, she honestly doesn’t know where to start. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry.” He sighs at himself, disappointed for snapping at her in the first place. “Look, I’m the one who should be sorry, for being short with you. It’s just, you were so vague before that it sort of made my head spin and now I’m having all these thoughts and I need you to just tell me what’s actually going on so can stop, so that I can just stop...” He can’t seem to find the word he’s looking for.

“Spiraling?” She finishes for him and he nods at her. “I get it, trust me. Why do you think I was talking so much on the ride home?” She swallows hard. She needs to just come out with it, for both of their sakes. Rip off the metaphorical bandaid, if you will. She bites her bottom lip again and then finally, she forces herself to really look at him, in the eyes. “It seems like we’re still married, Archie.”

His eyebrows narrow in confusion again and he shakes his head. “That can’t be right, you filed the annulment paperwork before we even left Vegas, you were extremely adamant about how that had to be done immediately in order to ensure a judge would grant it to us and we wouldn’t have to pay for an expensive divorce for such a stupid mistake.”

The way he says that seems like maybe he’s parroting what she said to him all those years ago. Truth be told, that morning was a blur. Waking up in Archie’s suite was not what she’d expected. Neither was having a diamond ring on her finger. Or that all she’d be wearing when she pulled back the covers was that diamond ring. The memory flashes before her in a barrage of images, moments in time she’d tried really hard to forget. It’s overwhelming.

But, there is one thing she remembers, so she focuses on that instead of letting herself unravel. There’s one detail from that day she’s sure of, and it’s that it was Archie who’d been entrusted with that important task, so she corrects that detail for him. “Arch, you dropped off the paperwork. I had an incredibly early flight back to New York and you said you’d be fine to take care of it.”

“Betty,” He scoffs, shaking his head. “No offense, but you’re kind of a neurotic micromanager. Are you really trying to pretend that you’d delegate something so important to me instead of doing it yourself?” He challenges back.

“Offense taken! I am not neurotic!” She bites back, some of the softness she was feeling towards him abating. “And, you’re right, normally I’d do something that important myself and that clearly would have been my first choice. Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t an option because the Clerk of Courts wasn’t open yet before I had to go to the airport. So, you told me you would do it before you…” She stops talking because his eyes widen a little as if he’s remembered something, maybe a detail he’d long since tried to forget, much like she’d done to many from that day. “What? What was that look for?”

“What look? There was no look!” He insists, but he still tacks on. “It’s for nothing,” too quickly for the words to seem like an actual defense. “Just, give me a second.” He turns away from her and brings his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose pensively. “Okay, you’re right. I did take them.” He swallows hard. “You had an early flight. Reggie and I were flying out way later than you, around the same time Toni and Cheryl were supposed to board the flight to Hawaii for their honeymoon.”

“The flight they missed after having bottomless mimosas at a brunch I sure hope you’re not about to tell me you were at…” She trails off, fixing him with a harsh look she’s not sure what she means to convey. Her mind is already racing with where this story could go. 

The wedding favors for Cheryl and Toni’s wedding had been immaculate fake IDs that granted their guests a weekend of over 21 fun despite being only 19 years old. They were so real, she’d actually used hers in some of her undercover work at the beginning of her time at the academy.

“I did not get drunk off mimosas.” He defends, but then more guilty. “Reggie and I had the bloody mary’s.”

She gives him an annoyed look again, “Did you get wasted and forget to file the annulment paperwork?”

“Of course not, Betty. I knew how important it was. You repeated it like 3,000 times to me before you left.” He reiterates, exaggeratedly. 

“Archie, it was kind of a big deal. We got legally married; on accident! First of all, Cheryl would have had us murdered if she thought we’d stolen her thunder in any way and second,” She stops, seeing yet another look of realization pass over him. “Archie…” She utters his name like a warning.

“Cheryl, Toni, and Reggie know we got married.” He takes her ‘rip off the band-aid approach himself for that one.”

Her jaw goes slack, her mouth falling agape before she can muster a reply. She knows that Reggie knows, he was the witness on their marriage license after all. But Cheryl and Toni? Fuck. That was probably a piece of blackmail Cheryl was waiting to pull out at an opportune time sometime before they died. “What? How? We agreed not to tell anyone else!” 

“I didn't mean to tell them! Cheryl saw the papers in my bag, it was a whole thing. We had a lot to drink, I may have gotten a little...the details are foggy, okay Betty?” He walks away from her, towards his kitchen. She knows he means for her to follow so she does. He opens the fridge and takes out two beers, extending one to her as a peace offering. She takes it, hoping it will do something to calm the nerves and adrenaline that are currently coursing through her.

“Okay, details are foggy, but you're absolutely certain that you filed the papers, right? So maybe this is all just an oversight?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Reggie went with me. We left Toni and Cheryl and their bottomless mimosas with plans to meet at the airport. Then, Reggie and I went to the address you gave me and,” He pauses, wrinkling his nose as he recalls another detail. One he knows she’s not going to like hearing, “We may have played blackjack first, because there were some bikini dealers at the casino we were staying at.” He frowns at himself, a little disappointed in his past self.

“Nice, Arch.” She shakes her head. “Well, I guess we all cope with making stupid decisons differently. While you were off downing bloody mary’s and ogling breasts I was-” She stops herself. “Nevermind.”

“You were what, Betty? Flying home laughing at what a stupid fucking mistake you’d made?”

She fixes him with another glare. Did he really think that would be how she reacted? Maybe he didn’t know her as well as she thought. “Hardly, Archie.” She narrows her eyes for a moment and then decides to go with the truth. “I was crying so hard on the plane they moved me out of the emergency exit row, because they said I wasn’t mentally fit enough to be counted on in a real emergency!” 

“Betts,” His voice is soft and he reaches for her hand regretfully. “I’m sorry. I didn't...look, I was upset too.”

“Yeah, it seems like you were really broken up. Tell me did the sadness hit you before or after the bikini dealers…”

“Betty, I was an emotional wreck throughout the entire brunch! That’s how they found out, it’s because I couldn't keep it together after you left and they eventually got it out of me, especially after Cheryl saw the papers and…” He sighs. “I felt like shit; so I tried to distract myself.” He shrugs, it’s a pretty normal coping mechanism after all isn’t it?

“Why did you feel like shit?” She asks, after a beat to process what he’s just said.

Was that a real question she needed to ask him? “I mean you acted like finding out you’d married me was the equivalent of finding out you’d married fucking Hiram Lodge! It doesn’t exactly feel awesome to have the girl you’ve always…” He stops himself. “It didn’t feel great to have you freak the fuck out about what we’d done, Betty.”

“How was I not supposed to freak the fuck out? We got married! In Vegas!” She reiterates her earlier point. “It was reckless, spontaneous, and irresponsible, Archie. I would have freaked out no matter who it was.”

“But it was me, Betty.” He interjects, shaking his head and then taking a long swig of his beer. “You wouldn’t even take my calls or text me back for months afterwards. The first I heard from you was a fucking bitmoji that said “Merry Christmas” for fucks sake!” He practically spits out the words at her.

They hit her like a slap to the face. He’s right, it was a shitty way to handle things. “Okay, I could have dealt with the situation a little better,” He gives her a poignant look and she corrects herself, “Okay, a lot better. I was freaking out, okay? And then there was school and my mom...” She doesn’t have to finish the sentence. Archie knows Alice, knows what she’s capable of; how she is. “I was trying to put it behind me and move on and I knew if we talked, we’d talk about that and it would make it real again. Then years had gone by and I didn’t know what to say to you anymore.” She sighs, she hates that she let that happen to them. 

He gets it, it’s also why he didn’t reach out anymore after trying a few times over about six months. If he were being honest with himself, he’d probably be able to admit that he’d been relieved when she hadn’t replied, at least in some small way. Having to confront what they’d done, having to talk about it? It did make it real, and this wasn’t easy to figure out the way things usually were with them.

“I hate that it ruined our friendship, Betty.” His eyes are red and a little glassy, as if they might well up with tears. Just the thought of it makes her own eyes redden and a few tears do slip from her eyes.

It breaks his heart a little. “Betty,” He says quietly.

“I’m fine,” She stammers, trying to control her breathing and emotions to keep from turning this into a whole thing. She swipes away the tears with her fingers. “I hate that too, Archie and I know it’s my fault. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I never, ever meant to hurt you. You were my best friend, you were my family. And,” She feels her eyes gloss over again, “I cared about you, so much.”

He notes how she says all of those things in the past tense. It makes sense, they haven’t really known each other in the past eight years, have they? It still stings, nevertheless. “You know I felt the same way about you, Betty. I tried to keep being your friend, you wouldn’t let me. I wanted to make things right between us and you wouldn’t give me the time of day to even have a conversation. Do you know how that made me feel? And I still, Betty...even after all that time I still hoped we could be friends again.”

“I didn’t deserve to be your friend anymore. I still don’t, Arch.” She whispers back before she can stop herself. She looks down again, ashamed. 

He’s silent for a little while; they both are. He knows he should refute what she’s just said but he has to know something first, which is kind of selfish. ““Betts?” He starts off, ”why, after all this time, are you suddenly bringing this up?” He’s afraid he knows the answer, but he has to hear it from her.

“I,” She swallows. “My boss was going through my personnel file and it came up how I was married and I was confused why he thought that and so I looked into-”

“Hey, let’s try that part again but this time, you just tell me the truth.” He’s harsh with her again and she’s taken aback once more.

“Archie I,” But she can’t really defend herself when he’s right. She’s not exactly lying, but she was planning to omit a large portion of the truth. “My boss,”

“Betty,”

“He’s my boyfriend too, okay?. Well...I guess he’s my,” She stops, she can’t look at him when she finishes that sentence. “He’s my fiance. He found out I was still married and you can imagine how he-”

“You’re engaged to your boss?” His voice drips with disapproval and he gives her that look she hates. It’s the one where she can tell people are judging her life choices without knowing the details. She expects it from most people, but not from Archie.

“Yes, I am. And fuck you if you’re going to judge me for that as if you know anything about me, my life, or my fiance.” She’s angry now and defensive. 

He can’t pretend he wasn’t judging her, he won’t do her the disservice of trying to say he wasn’t either. “Look, I’m sorry. Your personal life is your business. I’m sure he’s a great guy.”

“Glen is a great guy.” She defends lamely and she’s afraid Archie will ask for an example and she isn’t going to have one on hand. “He has really helped me with my career goals and aspirations.”

Archie’s features soften a little and he fixes her with a knowing look. “Oh, I see.”

“Oh, you see what?” She scowls.

“Nothing, Betty. Nevermind.” 

“No, not nothing. We each get one nothing during this conversation and you’ve already used yours. Nowm just say whatever it is you want to say!”

“Betty,” He warns, but she’s fixing him with a look so full of challenge he can tell it’s no use. He knows he’ll regret it but he says it anyway. “You’re marrying him because it’s good for your career. It just, it makes sense for you. That’s all.”

“It makes sense for me?” She’s not exactly sure why that’s so offensive, but it is. She glowers at him again. “Wow, Archie. What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

He’s not only put his foot in his mouth at this point, the whole leg is in there. “Betty, I just mean…” He stops. “I don’t even know!” He’s exasperated and the next part just seems to come out. “I don’t fucking care about this Glen asshole, okay? Or why you want to marry him, it’s none of my business. I haven’t even spoken to you in almost a decade so why the fuck do I even care if you love this douchebag or not?”

“Oh so now Glen’s an asshole and a douchebag, huh? Real nice Archie, and here I was all night thinking what a sweet guy you still were and how I didn’t want to have this conversation with you because I didn't want to hurt you! But please, don’t hold back on my account, tell me how you really feel about someone you’ve never even met.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be just fine.” He scoffs. “And you’re right, I shouldn’t call your precious fiance any names. A boss who dates and proposes to his gorgeous, and I’m going out on a limb here, much younger employee definitely seems like a real stand up guy. You bagged a real catch, Betts.”

She should focus on the way he’s disparaged her fiance. That should be what pisses her off the most, really. But instead she finds herself inquiring, in a tiny voice, “Gorgeous?” She shakes her head. “You’re about eight years too late to decide you want to call me that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” It’s his turn to be incredulous. “I’ve always thought you were gorgeous! Since we were kids you’ve always been the most…” He sighs. “You know I think you’re beautiful, Betty. Anyone with eyes can see that. I definitely do.”

“Arch,” Now she softens at his words. “Look, I’m sorry. We’re both getting really emotional. Maybe, I should leave. Maybe we should talk about this when-”

“Do you love him, Betty? Like really love him?”

“Arch?” She’s a little bit stunned by his question, which is a loaded one.

“I only ask because,” He stops but then can’t help but continue, “You already had one marriage that you regret. The next guy you marry? You should really, really love him. You deserve that. Not just some guy you’re marrying because it fits well into the life plan you made for yourself when you were 24.”

There’s something about the way he says ‘that you regret’ that gets her stuck. She simply can’t move past it. “We’ve both had one marriage that was a huge mistake, Arch. We both regret that stupid, drunken night.” She corrects.

He simply shrugs, dismissively. “I mean,” 

Betty’s eyes go wide. “What? Archie, you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t try to tell me what I mean, not when you haven’t spoken to me since it happened.” He gives her an offended look. “Marrying your best friend isn’t that bad. There are worse fates in life. Especially when your best friend…” He sighs and shakes his head, downing the rest of his beer. Maybe it’s that act that inspires him to add, “Hell of a lot better than marrying someone you don’t even like, just to get ahead in your career.”

This is the part where she’s supposed to say that she not only likes Glen, she loves him. She knows that. She should say something about how she isn’t just marrying him for the professional proliferations. Maybe she should even be pissed at what he’s just tried to imply about her engagement, considering how close to home it hits.

The words are on her lips, she can feel them ready to spill out, but they don’t. Somehow, she finds her eyes flicking to his lips instead, her tongue darting out wantonly between her own as she does. “Stop looking at me like that,” he warns her.

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” She lies unconvincingly, swallowing hard. She wills herself to blink or look away but she can’t seem to force it to happen. 

“You are.” He returns simply, his tone matter of fact. He even dares to take a step towards her as if challenging her to deny it again. 

“How am I looking at you, Archie?” She goes for annoyed, but it reads more as fear. Fear that he can see right through her as plainly as he’s making it seem right now.

“Like you want me to kiss you, Betty.” It’s equal parts accusation and apparent fact.

She denies it anyway. “No, Archie. That’s definitely not-”

“You can’t lie to me Betty. I still know you better than anyone.”

She wants to deny that too, but it’s true as well. Archie has always been able to see her, really see her. Usually, it was one of her favorite things about him and their relationship. But right now? Right now she hates it. She opens her mouth to speak but he starts talking again.

“You know, technically, since we’re still married you’ve been cheating on me with him, so it’s practically only fair if-.”

“Archie,” She gives him another annoyed look, but this one is weaker and less meaningful.

She is acutely aware of how rapidly her chest is rising and falling now. It’s another effect he still apparently has on her that she could really do without at this moment. “I’m only kidding Betty.” He shakes his head and offers her a smug look. “Don’t worry, I won’t try anything. We slept together once, 8 years ago, and you haven’t talked to me since.”

“Archie,” She says his name again but this time, her eyes well up with tears and she turns away from him to hide her face as they fall. It’s in that moment that he can tell he’s pushed it too far with his last comment and it’s his turn to feel like shit. He hadn’t meant to really make her upset, much less make her cry.

He steps forward, tugs her towards him, and wraps his arms around her affectionately. He does think better of it first, but he can’t stop himself; nor does he want to. He knows he shouldn't let himself enjoy this. He definitely shouldn’t want it to turn into more, but he can’t help himself. 

In fact, he really knows better than to tangle his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck; but he does that anyway too. “Betts, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that, it’s just that,” He pulls back to look at her before admitting the next part. “I guess I’m” He stops and it seems to pain him to force out the last part of that thought, “...jealous. But that’s not an excuse to be a dick.”

“Archie,” She bites her lip as she stares back at him. She’s not sure what else to say but his name, it’s the only thing she seems to be able to articulate right now. Their eyes search each other and flick to one another’s lips more than they should. The air around them is charged

“You don’t have to say anything. Look, we’re both really raw right now, like you said. Maybe we should put a pin in this and finish talking when we’re less emotional. Before we say, or do something we can’t take back?”

“Arch.” She shortens his name to a different variation this time at least. But, despite her better judgement, she finds herself rising to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but she stumbles and it’s more like the corner of his mouth. It’s not exactly chaste, but she doesn’t think it crosses any lines either. She does let her lips linger there just a smidgen too long for it to be completely platonic though.

She forces herself to wriggle out of his embrace, lest she do something she might regret. “Tomorrow morning, just uh...text me and we’ll get together. Finish this conversation.” She nods and then without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she turns around, grabs her purse, and heads out the door, back to her mother’s house.


End file.
